


Don't Give Up Just Yet

by withaflashoflove



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 01:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8947510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withaflashoflove/pseuds/withaflashoflove
Summary: Hurt/comfort as Iris and Barry deal with the future prophecy.





	

"Baby."

She's been crying in his arms. He doesn't remember how long it's been. He just knows that when she came home, the sun hadn't set, and now, all he can see is pitch black outside their window.

His thighs have gone numb and his neck is stiff. But he doesn't care.

He doesn't care that his phone's vibrated 20 times since she fell into him and he pulled her onto his lap, onto their couch, only to hold her tight and let her shake her sadness away.

He doesn't care that the dinner he made her has been left untouched and that he forgot to loop his playlist, so now there's cold food and silence.

Silence except for her sobs, which are still too fast for his liking, which are still too heavy on his neck.

He doesn't care that his shirt is wet. He'll let her have it as a tissue. He'll give her his whole closet, aside from his button-downs, because she likes to wear those in the mornings.

He doesn't care that his chest will probably be bruised in the morning from how many times she's hit it with her fist, doesn't care that his ears are filled with her screams and her curses.

She doesn't curse a lot. She rarely gets angry. Even when she's driving and he's in the car with her. The most he's seen her do is tailgate a guy who cut her off, but she backed off because she felt guilty and didn't want to cause any unnecessary harm.

One time, they were working together at Jitters and someone spilled their coffee on her laptop. She was midway through sending her finished article proposal to her editor. 

Even then, she dealt through it in a more rational way than he could ever.

She wasn't doing that right now.

Right now, she was crying. Because he told her about the future, and god why was he the one who always had to make her hurt.

So much so that she was banging on his chest and shaking in his arms and crying into his neck, and he _did_ care.

He cared about it all.

About the cold food. And the music-less room. About his numb body and his wet clothes. He cares because she's hurting and she doesn't deserve to be hurting, and all he can do is keep whispering  _baby_ into her hair, while rubbing his hands along her back, while kissing the top of her head, while holding her as tight as she'll let him.

He cares that she's crying. That she feels so heavy in his arms. That it's her life that's at stake and he can't be the strong one when she usually is, but now he has to be because she isn't, except he can't because he can't lose her and she believes he _is_ going to lose her and nothing makes sense.

Not the black of the night.

Not the cold of the air.

Not the tears on his neck.

Not that it seems like she's given up on her own life, succumbed herself to a possibility of destiny. Not that he isn't the boyfriend she needs right now because he doesn't know how to comfort her when he's losing his mind about losing her. Not when their new home together is supposed  _safe_ , yet right now, it feels everything but.

* * *

 _You can't give up_ , she remembers him telling her, mid kiss, with both their tears falling, with his forehead touching hers and his chest pressed against hers.

He kept saying it, over and over again, until the sobs swallowed his words and her tongue melted away his voice.

She licked his lips open and kissed him deep, like she was afraid to lose him, like she was holding onto him for dear life, because she didn't want to lose her life, not the life she'd worked so hard for, the one she fought to have, the one she _loved_ living.

She still wanted her Pulitzer.

She wanted a promotion.

She wanted to become editor someday.

She still had stories to break.

She still had a baby brother to take care of.

And a dad to love.

And a best friend to grow old with, to spend a lifetime with, to have kids with.

She had so much life, so much left to do, and five months wasn't going to cut it.

 _Fuck Savitar,_ Barry told her,  _you can't give up. Iris you won't die, I swear it on my life, you won't die!_

That was a few hours ago, back when they were on the couch, when she looked up to see him after crying into his neck for so long, and he broke down the moment her eyes met his.

They somehow managed to find their bed, after they built a puddle of water on the couch, after they hugged each other for so long and so tight that they didn't know where one started and the other ended.

She remembers her eyes being closed and him pulling her up from the couch, lifting her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her to bed, away from the darkness of the night, away from their neighbors, to their bedroom, which was theirs alone and no one elses.

He set her on bed and soon enough, they were kissing to escape, and she was coming undone under his fingertips and he was saying words that she couldn't make out, between the sweat and the tears and everything else.

Now, there was silence again.

Barry had his head on her chest, his breathing steady, Iris knowing he was fast asleep.

She wasn't.

Not with so many thoughts running her head, with so many fears in mind, and she was scared.

Because she didn't want to die.

Because she wasn't ready to give up the home she made for herself.

And she wouldn't.

She promised herself that, back on the couch with Barry, and now again as she's lying under the covers, staring at the ceiling.

She won't die. 

She will fight for her life with every last breath that she has.

She will do everything she can to have the future she wants, a future that no metahuman can take from her.

And she'll have her partner right there with her, every step of the way.

Like he is now, his steady breaths keeping her calm, his brown locks giving her fingers something to hold on to, his body resting on top of hers, keeping her warm and safe.

So she kisses the top of his head and runs her hands down his back.

He stirs just enough to wrap his arm around her waist a little tighter, to place a kiss between her breasts.

And she pulls the covers over them, letting the still of the night take her to sleep.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and maybe she'll find the strength to keep her trembling hands and teary eyes calm for longer than a few hours.

But she'll take it slow and she'll lean on Barry if she needs to, knowing he won't leave her side.

And tonight, she'll sleep.

Because she needs the rest right now. In the arms of her lover. Away from any future and any destiny. Just here, in the now.


End file.
